Eight tips to help get you through the winter!

Again, I apologize for my absence lately! Chris and I moved into a new apartment in September, and we (mostly me, haha) decided that we could live without internet. So now, we don't watch TV (we only have one that lets us watch DVDs) and don't have internet. Honestly, I don't miss it. Some days I miss the convenience, but now I have to actually....do things to entertain myself. Instead of Facebook, I read a book. Or work on my knitting. Or make some paper flowers. Or bake a cake. Or just cuddle. It really is freeing to not feel tied to my computer.

So anyways, it's that time of year again. Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD) is gaining traction and is becoming a problem for many people, maybe even you. I know it's starting to kick my butt. For those of you who don't know, SAD is also known as Seasonal Depression, or even just the winter blues. It is difficult to diagnose and may happen at different times of the year. For me, my depression symptoms are definitely more pronounced and longer lasting during the winter, even though this is my favorite time of year. This past month, I have had difficulty being motivated to do things, especially getting up in the morning and preparing food. My appetite has changed; at first I was eating everything, but now nothing sounds good, even if I am hungry. The only foods I can get myself to eat are sweets and easy to prepare meals like pasta and microwave stuff. My body also feels really heavy. I'm not sure how to describe it other than it takes a tremendous effort to move, especially my arms, and I almost dropped a jar of peanut butter today because it felt so heavy and took a lot of effort. But you know that winter gets you down or you struggle during a certain time of year for no apparent reason, here are eight tips I use to cope when the sunlight is scarce.

1) Invest in a sun lamp
Seriously, these things really work. I have one, but I haven't been able to get up early enough in the morning to use it before work. When I can use it a couple days in a row, I do feel better. Sun lamps work by mimicking the sun's light and helping to keep your circadian rhythm steady, which can boost your feelings of well being and ability to sleep well. They do not emit UV rays, so they do not help your body produce vitamin D or give you sunburn. Look for a lamp that has at least 10,000 lux of light - anything less won't be effective. It is also not a good idea to use it after noon, since it tells your body to wake up and you may have trouble sleeping that night. I have a portable one that can sit next to me at work if I am somewhere near an outlet.

2) Exercise
I know, some days it is SO HARD to even move. I literally slept all day today. I am super not proud of it, and I was feeling really down because I felt like I wasted my whole day and the sunlight away. However, I took my dog for a walk around the block and immediately felt better. So even if it's just a quick walk around the block or to the end of your block and back, do it. Fresh air and movement does a body good.

3) Do something quantifiable or creative every day
No, I don't mean binge watching the entire run of Friends on Netflix. Because at the end of the day, do you really feel better about yourself? No, you don't. You feel like poop. I'm talking about something where you can physically see the results of your actions. Read part of a book. You can see your progress. Learn to knit or do another craft. You have something tangible that you can show other people and say, "I made this! See this two inches of scarf? Yeah, that is approximately half an hour of my day." Clean out your fridge. It doesn't have to be big, and it doesn't really matter what it is as long as you can see the result of your time at the end of it.

4) Keep up your self care
For me, my self care takes a huge hit when I'm depressed. I don't prepare meals, and as a result, I eat out a lot more. Sometimes I go a few days between showering, and that makes me feel gross. What's the solution? DO IT ANYWAY. If you have to, print off a chart like this one and keep it by your bed or in your bathroom or on your fridge. If things still seem impossible, that leads me to the next step...

5) Ask for and accept help
I know for a fact that if I turned to someone I care about who knows what I'm going through and said, "I need to shower. Like bad. But it's too hard. Halp," they would find some way to motivate me into doing so (friends, I'm holding you accountable now, haha). Or if your mom wants to cook you dinner, let her. People really do care about you and they want to give. Let them. Let your significant other handle dinners for a while. Or let your friend come over and help you clean. In the book The Art of Asking, Amanda Palmer talks about how Henry David Thoreau (the guy who wrote about Walden Pond) got a basket of homemade donuts from his mom every week while he was living in the woods. He did what he had to do to live out in the woods and write his book. He took the donuts. Does it really matter if people don't think he is an "authentic" hermit anymore? He still wrote a book, which is more than a lot of us can say. Take the donuts. People are always giving them out.

6) Keep up your social connections
This is also REALLY HARD for me sometimes. When I'm down, social situations honestly just are not fun for me. I know that I should be doing it, but when I'm doing it, I wish I was home. You don't have to go to parties to stay in touch. Texting or talking to another human being that you care about on the phone counts. So does sending a card. Or even just having a good old slumber party with your BFF. Meetup.com can also help you find groups of people with similar interests as yours. The last time I checked, there weren't many groups in the Twin Ports that were of interest to me, but I see the list has expanded! Check it out - you might make a new friend or find a new hobby.

7) Journal
It doesn't have to be long or time intensive. A ten minute reflection of your day before bed is completely sufficient. I completely believe in journaling because writing down emotions and events helps you remember (plus you have a cheat sheet to look back on!), helps emotions to process, and it can also show you trends in how you are feeling. So even if today you feel awful and it seems like you will never get better, you can look back in your journal and see that last week your coworker did something really nice for you and that the other day your friend sent you a surprise package and that yesterday really was a good day overall and that everything will be OK.

8) Be kind to yourself
I also struggle with this every day, especially with negative self talk. One thing that helps me be kinder to myself is asking, "would I say this to someone I care about?" Never in a million years would I tell my friend that they are worthless or ugly. I couldn't live with myself if I told my dog I hated him. Because they aren't and I don't. So why do we treat others better than we treat ourselves? Your friends and loved ones don't see you the way you see yourself. I promise. We are our worst critics. All of these steps are ways to stay kind to yourself and honor your feelings. Today was a really unproductive day for me, but I went for a walk (exercise), wrote this blog (something concrete I can see), and I am TOTALLY TAKING A SHOWER TONIGHT.

So there you go, guys. Keep it real. Here's a poem that's been circulating on Facebook that I love:

Worst Day Ever?

by Chanie Gorkin

Today was the absolute worst day ever
And don't try to convince me that
There's something good in every day
Because, when you take a closer look,
This world is a pretty evil place.
Even if
Some goodness does shine through once in a while
Satisfaction and happiness don't last.
And it's not true that
It's all in the mind and heart
Because
True happiness can be attained
Only if one's surroundings are good
It's not true that good exists
I'm sure you can agree that
The reality
Creates
My attitude
It's all beyond my control
And you'll never in a million years hear me say
Today was a very good day

Now read it from bottom to top, the other way,
And see what I really feel about my day.

Update

Wow. So....it's kind of been a while since I've written a post! I ran into a little snafu a while back where I was really questioning the validity of my journey and purpose with this blog. I am still questioning, but I am a little less hesitant.

I watched an amazing TED talk just now, which inspired me to go back to this blog and keep the conversation of mental health going. Before I go on to the TED talk, let me catch you up on my life right now.

Unfortunately, I should be acting on stage right now, but I'm not. It is the 13th Chicken Hat production, and lots of cool people I know are in it, but here I am at home on my computer. For those of you who don't know, every 6 months or so, the Rubber Chicken Theater in Duluth puts on a Chicken Hat show. Eight writers come in Friday night and draw a who, a what, and a where prompt out of hats. They also draw a cast number, like 2 men, 2 women to give them a character guide. In addition, there is a common cameo (typically a local celebrity) who makes an appearance in every show. Then, they go home that night and write a 10-15 minute play including those prompts. The next morning, everyone comes together (writers, actors, and directors) and the directors draw their show and cast list out of hats. The rest of the day is spent rehearsing, memorizing, and frantically grabbing props. The entire show, made up of the 8 mini shows, is put on that night. It's a crazy whirlwind ride, and I have been fortunate enough to have been in 3 Chicken Hat shows so far.

Me and Brittany Falkers! Chicken Hat 1

My trusty Portal gun. Chicken Hat 2

He was supposed to be Smaug. Chicken Hat 2

One Direction fan girling it up! Chicken Hat 3

Anyways, I am not in the one that is about to go onstage in an hour because about a month ago, I started a new job! Yay! When I was in the group program back in March, I realized that my life needed me to move on to something different, so that's what I did. No more chocolate for me, but at least I get to choose what I wear every day :) I love my new job, and I am doing really well. On the downside, we are really understaffed right now, which has lead to me being a bit of an unintentional workaholic. Today, for example. I had to work until noon, which dropped me out of the running for the 8:00 call for Chicken Hat. But on the bright side, I had a partial day to relax at home by myself. I kicked around some wedding ideas and soaked up the wonderfulness that is my bed. Especially with this job and working so much, I find it necessary to have days of doing nothing just so I can refresh myself and rest up for the upcoming week. I suppose today was a blessing in disguise.

Fortunately, I am able to attend the Chicken Hat show tonight as an audience member, which I think is a first. I get to support all my lovely theater friends and tell my fiance how proud I am of him for doing something he loves but also for doing it even though he knew I couldn't.

Back to the TED talk. This is a great one for anyone to watch because I think it puts a different spin on mental "illness." Especially after watching this video, it became more apparent to me that really, there is nothing wrong with me or anyone who suffers from mental illness. I really believe that a lot of mental illness, although some of it is definitely genetic or inherent, stems from stuffing emotions. One example that is said in the video is the only acceptable response to "How are you?" is "I'm fine" or "I'm good." We lie and pretend and our real selves get buried. All of us addicts, self mutilators, workaholics, binge eaters, alcoholics, compulsive shoppers, etc., are incredibly sensitive people. Sometimes the world is just too much for us to handle or we are told that our emotions are not appropriate, so we do things to numb the emotions. The only problem is that you cannot selectively numb. When you numb the bad stuff, you numb the good stuff, too. There was a period of time in my life where I didn't think I could cry anymore. No matter what happened, I just didn't cry. I didn't really feel sad either. Now I can cry and feel sadness that is so overwhelming I think I might go insane, but I can also feel great joy and satisfaction with where I am at with life. To quote Glennon Doyle Melton from the TED talk, "Life is beautiful. And life is brutal. Life is brutiful. All the time and every day."

Happify

Today I stumbled upon something wonderful. For once, Facebook had an ad that was helpful.

I've been feeling particularly blah today. Maybe it's the weather. Maybe it was the dreams I had last night. Maybe it could be a lot of things. I just know that today I need to take it easy. What's more easy than boosting my happiness while sitting on the computer??

The ad was for a website called Happify. I looked it up on Google and found an article about it in the New Yorker. Read the full article here. In a nutshell, Happify is kind of like the popular game website Lumosity, but for happiness! On Happify, you play games to help you increase your sense of well being. I thought it seemed worth checking out, so I clicked on the link.

First off, you sign up and answer some questions about your current happiness level. Is there something significant causing you stress right now? How often do you interact with people? Stuff like that. Then, once you answer all the questions, Happify suggests a track for you. Tracks are a series of exercises and games that focus on a particular facet of well being. The track I chose was "Stop comparing yourself to others and see the good in life." The neat thing about all these games and exercises is that you can read a little blurb about the science behind each of these exercises if you are a nerd like me :) The first exercise I did was about gratitude. I had to imagine three things that I had recently bought that I had lost appreciation for. Then, I had to imagine someone taking those things away and write about how I felt and see if I could bring back some of that appreciation. The second exercise I did was a game. Hot air balloons with words on them were floating on the screen. The object of the game was to click on positive words and ignore the negative ones. You gain points for positive words and lose points for negative words. This is a mindfulness exercise which encourages you to reframe how you see the world. If you actively look for positives and don't focus on the negatives, the world will seem like a much better place, right? The last game I played was very Angry Birds-esque. The game gave you a choice of choosing from a list of things bothering you, or you could write in your own. Once you had 3-5 bothers, the game began. Each worry was represented by a purple blob holding a sign with that worry on it. Your job was to use a slingshot of positive things to knock down the support systems holding the blobs up. As you knocked down more blobs, the lighter and sunnier the screen got. Oh, and did I mention that you can earn badges and stuff by doing these activities?

Unfortunately, the website allows you to only do a couple of exercises a day. The point is to get you to do a little every day instead of in one large chunk. Of course, you can buy a subscription and get full access to the site, but since it is still a relatively new thing, I think I will stick with what I get for free for now. The website also has links to funny youtube videos and articles to inspire you.

If any of you guys are curious, feel free to check it out! Let me know what you think or what your username is so we can be friends :)

And in case you were wondering what a mouse sounds like when it snores,  here is a video :)

Practicing Gratitude

Long story short - I started trying to write about my experience in the group program, but it got so incredibly long and detailed, I thought it would be better to break down specific things I learned into different posts. That way I can add some anecdotes as to how I am actually using these skills in my life :)

First, a little background info about what happened for three weeks! Almost everything we did was done in a group setting. It was almost like being back in school again, except no one yelled at you if you asked to borrow a pen and the chairs were comfier. The first two hours were spent doing group psychotherapy. One or two staff members led us in a discussion as we took turns sharing how our weekend/yesterday/first week/etc. went and anything else we wanted to talk about. We also did introductions and departing thoughts during this time, since new people started and left the program almost every day. When someone is discharged from the program, they are given a book of positive thoughts and are asked to share one with the group. They also get to pass the book around to get signed like a yearbook.

The next few hours focus on different things. Learning DBT skills take up a good chunk of the day. DBT stands for Dialectical Behavior Therapy. There are four main components to DBT: mindfulness, distress tolerance, interpersonal effectiveness, and emotional regulation. DBT was originally developed to help people with personality disorders, (((side note, "personality disorder" is a stupid name, and I feel like a lot of people don't really know what they are because of assumptions made from said stupid name. Personality is defined as traits, behaviors, or characteristics that make up individuality. So the fact that I always have to wear matching socks is a behavior that is part of my personality. A personality disorder develops when someone adapts a trait/behavior/characteristic that helped them cope in a stressful situation, usually in childhood, but that trait/behavior/characteristic, while it may have been helpful during that time, is no longer helpful in adulthood or when interacting with people who have developed normally. Other factors such as genetics or the environment can play in as well. For example, a child who was abandoned by his parents may have trouble trusting other people later in life, which could lead to job insecurity, isolation, and paranoia.))) but it has been found to be effective for people with all kinds of mental illness. We also had hours that focused on spirituality, occupational therapy, art/activity therapy, and other neat stuff.

One of the skills that I am working on incorporating into my life is practicing gratitude. Sometimes when life gets overwhelming and everything seems like it's going wrong, looking at what you actually have going for you in your life can be an amazing coping mechanism. Plus, I've found that when I regularly practice gratitude, I am able to appreciate and notice the little details in life. Some days, all you might be grateful for is the roof over your head, and that's totally ok. When I was in group, I was given a rock with the word GRATITUDE etched into it. I carry it in my purse or pocket to remind myself that there is ALWAYS something to be thankful for, no matter how yucky I feel inside. In this moment I am grateful for my puppy, Duke because he makes me get up in the morning so I can take him to go potty. I am grateful that Chris will be coming home soon and we can go on the bike ride that we planned. I am also thankful for various social and public programs and services, like the free tax prep help I am getting at the library today. And of course, I'm thankful for all of you out there cheering me on and following my progress :) Mental illness is not something that I or anyone else should have to be ashamed of. We are all human beings. We are all fighting our own battles. We are all doing the best we can for ourselves, and there is amazing strength in that. I would really encourage you to take a few seconds and find something to truly appreciate in your life. It doesn't have to be exorbitant - it can be the fact that you are alive and you have access to internet. Revel in that thought. You have an entire global community at your fingertips. How cool is that? Plus videos of cats.

On a parting note, here is a picture of my super cute puppy! It know it's kind of blurry, but he was just SO EXCITED.

Woman Vs. Food

I have had a love/hate relationship with food for most of my life.

I have always loved vegetables, and my parents never had to force them on me. As a kid, I remember eating frozen peas, canned tuna, or a spoonful of peanut butter for a snack (although not at the same time. That would be gross). I ate my fair share of candy, but overall, I had no health problems, and I would say that I had mainly healthy eating habits.

That all changed once I hit puberty.

Everyone knows that once those awful hormones kick in, your definition of normal goes completely out the window, especially when people around you directly or indirectly try and influence you.

For me, it wasn't magazines or television or the Victoria's Secret fashion show that made me self conscious of my body. It was my parents.

Once I hit puberty, my dad started making comments to me about how I needed to lose weight or I looked chubby. I remember one time I was going out with friends and just as I was about to leave, he said, "You're wearing...that?" I asked what was wrong with my outfit, since I thought I looked just fine. He said, "Well...." and poked his finger into my soft belly. Humiliated, I ran upstairs to put on the baggiest clothes I could find. He said things like this to me all the time regardless of whether or not we were around other people, including my friends. Another day, my dad told me I needed to go on a diet. Wailing with humiliation, I scoured the fridge for celery, vowing that I would never let anything else cross my lips. My mom saw me and said, "I knew you would react like this. We are just trying to help you." She then convinced me to add a scrape of peanut butter to my sparse diet. Eventually, these messages started to sink in, and all I could see was fat when I looked in the mirror.

Junior prom. I was so worried about how my stomach looked. I'm pretty sure I spent most of the day sucking it in.

From then on, I policed my food intake. It felt good to be hungry. I was so depressed at that point that I honestly did not believe that I even deserved to eat, so I would limit myself to one small meal a day. Hunger pains felt good, like I was perpetually punishing myself for the ultimate crime: existing. I truly believed that I was a burden on everyone and deserved nothing - not even basic necessities. I weighed myself at least three times a day: in the morning, when I got home from school, and before bed. My weight fluctuation throughout the day would determine if and how much I could eat. If I was up a pound from the night before, I would go without breakfast and lunch. If I was still up when I came home, I would go without dinner as well, which was easy because most of the time, no one made dinner at home. The dinner responsibility was on your own. I think once I went a total of three days straight without eating. As I saw the weight drop off, that only encouraged me to keep starving myself. I remember one day, my family went to McDonald's for lunch. I was so terrified that I would gain weight from eating fast food that I ordered only a small french fry. If I could have, I would have skipped lunch all together. It took me over an hour to eat that small bundle of fries because I was determined to not gain anything from the indulgence: I took miniscule bites and chewed each bite at least twenty times. I'm not sure if I was doing this initially to punish myself for being a bad person or to try and lose weight. Whichever came first, I was succeeding in both my goals and was receiving praise for it.

People noticed that I was losing weight, and they liked it. My doctor told me to "keep up the good work!" at my yearly check-up, even though I had no health problems or weight concerns prior to this starting. I indirectly was complimented by my clothes. I could fit into smaller and smaller sizes, and the smaller the size, the cuter the clothing was. My dad even laid off me and told me I was finally looking how I was supposed to look. Although my legs were never as muscular as his, as he would often brag to me, even though I rode my bike almost every day in the summer. I got so caught up in this positive reinforcement for bad behavior, and not one single person saw it for what it was and called me out on it.

This strict policing of my food carried on into college. My freshman year, I was again terrified at the thought of gaining the inevitable "freshman 15." I lived in the dorms and had a meal plan, but I only allowed myself one meal a day in the cafeteria and nothing on the weekends. The thing is, the meal plans budget for more than that (and you don't get a refund if you don't use it all!), and by the time the last week of classes rolled around, I still had 40 meals on my card. That was my downfall. I was terrified of losing money even more than I was terrified of gaining weight, so I did my best to use all 40 meals within a week and a half time frame. I gained the freshman 10.

Disappointment abounding, I resolved that it would not happen again. I still only let myself have one meal a day, but I would regularly pay for my ex boyfriend or other friends to eat as well. It worked out great. I used up all my meals, I didn't have to eat it all, plus people seemed grateful. I even started going to the gym a few nights a week and lost 5 of the freshman 10. Life was good.

I managed to do this all the way up until the end of my sophomore year. I was going to study abroad in Scotland for a month, and I vowed to myself that I wouldn't deprive myself of any food experience while I was over there. I wanted to immerse myself in the food culture as completely as possible. Unfortunately, no matter how much walking I did (walking....everywhere.....) I still gained 10 pounds. And you know what? I was ok with that. I had finally allowed myself to live and not struggle with every bite that I allowed to pass my lips.

This was near the end of the trip, so the 10 pounds should have taken hold by now. I thought I still looked great.

When I returned home, however, my family didn't respond to my weight gain as wholeheartedly as I had. Granted there were some other issues going on, but my mom took one look at me and said, "I can tell you gained some weight. Obviously you ate very well over there."

That moment broke me.

I would like to say that I stood up to her once and for all and said, "You know what, mom? If you're going to treat me like this, I'll just leave," and walked out. I did say that, but I didn't leave. At least, not right away. It was that moment that I realized that everything they had said to me about my weight wasn't really about me. It was about them and their own insecurities and attempts to control me. It broke my heart to hear that, but it allowed to for healing, like when a doctor has to re-break a broken bone that didn't heal correctly the first time around.

I still struggle with my body image occasionally, but it doesn't pertain to food anymore. To be honest, I eat a lot of donuts, and I'm not ashamed. I enjoy food now, not just for the nourishment, but also the social aspect. I love cooking in the kitchen with my fiance and sharing our creation together. I love going out and eating with friends. I denied so much of that to myself before. I can't even count how many times I turned down invitations to go out to eat because I only thought of the eating aspect. Right now, my focus is being healthy rather than being a certain size or weight. If I'm going to lose weight, I want to do it right. I never want to starve myself again. I have been working on making positive lifestyle changes to help me get on track to being able to do what I want to do with my body. Yoga has helped build strength and flexibility, while cooking at home has helped spark my creativity and discouraged the need to constantly eat out. I'm getting there, and I'm proud.

I am proud to say that my BMI is 36.7. I am obese. And I have never felt better about myself.

The Art Show

Last Friday, my months of hard work finally paid off. I was in my first ever art show, and it was an amazing experience!

After much confusion and running around (I really got my exercise in that day!) trying to find a space to set up, John agreed to let me share his table. What a nice guy!

One of the items I crocheted was a drawstring bag with a heart on it (i affectionately called them Love Sacks). I sold two of them that night, both to a girl who was probably about 8 or 9 years old. After her dad bought them, she promptly ripped the strings out of both bags and stuffed her hands inside. The rest of the night, I could see her proudly showing off her new "mittens" to anyone who would look. Too cute!

There was so much incredible talent packed into the library that night. Seriously, if you want to be fascinated, go up to an artist and ask them about their work or the story behind a particular piece. John, the guy next to me, talked all night long about the properties of different types of wood and how he goes about finding pieces to work with. Another woman explained to me that when she makes jewelry, the piece develops a mind of its own and tells her a story as she creates it. Yet another artist told me with great anguish how her home studio was destroyed in the flood a few years back, but she was really close to finishing repairs.

That got me thinking about what my art means to me. I first learned how to knit when I was in 2nd or 3rd grade from my paternal grandma. She used to get the biggest kick out of how I would knit - instead of holding a needle in each hand, I found it easier to hold the left one between my knees, which freed up my hand to wrap the yarn around the other needle. However, I never really mastered knitting at that point. All I could make were lopsided squares with an occasional dropped stitch that would unravel into a hole if bothered. I only knew how to cast on, knit, and cast off. Eventually I lost interest, and my yarn and needles were relegated to a far corner of my room. Even when my grandma had to be moved to an assisted living facility and I was given her knitting supplies (I was the only one in the family who had any idea what to do with it), it was added to that sad corner of my room. It wasn't until my maternal grandma past away that I picked up knitting again. My mom and I flew down to Arizona for the funeral and were staying at my aunt and uncle's house where my grandma also used to live. This became the gathering hub of the family - more specifically, the porch, where the adults spent the long perpetually summer days reminiscing and indulging in adult only beverages. I stayed inside on the couch watching TV and helping to go through grandma's stuff. Eventually, my aunt took pity on me and retaught me how to knit. This time, though, I was shown how to cast on, knit, purl, increase, decrease, and cast off. That is basically all you need to know to follow a knitting pattern, and I was hooked. (Side note: I was planning on wearing an Auntie Pat sweater to the art show, but it was SO HOT in the library.) Since then, I've tackled hats, blankets, stuffed animals, and even a sweater.

When I was in college, I was part of a club called Stitchin' Students. Stitchin' Students was a weekly gathering of yarn nerds to knit, crochet, needlepoint, or anything else having to do with fiber. One of our activities in the club involved yarn bombing the campus. For those of you who don't know what yarn bombing is, it is exactly what it sounds like. Here are some pictures.

 

One of the places we were planning on yarn bombing was the railing of the stairway with granny squares. I wanted in on the fun, so one of the members taught me how to crochet a granny square. My first granny square ended up being a granny triangle, but I was still proud of myself. I decided to keep going with crocheting as well as knitting. That leads me to where I am today. I suppose part of why I do it is to remember my grandmas and keep those family ties alive. More importantly though, I do it for myself. I do it for the love of taking yarn and transforming it into something that can be used and/or appreciated by people other than myself. I do it to keep my anxious hands busy. I do it to keep attention to detail alive. I do it to quantify my time (believe me, 2 hours spent knitting is much more visually gratifying than 2 hours spent on Facebook). It's a documentation of my presence, both in speaking of time and personality.

The Evaluation and the Light

If you remember from my last post, I mentioned that I would be going in for an evaluation appointment for a mental health intensive day program. That was yesterday, and I can say that it went really well! Once we got all the insurance and paperwork stuff squared away, I was brought into the psychotherapist's office. I knew I was in good hands when I walked in. Here is where I use my skills from high school to find meaning in all the little things that may be a sign from the universe, a random coincidence, or me just reading into things like every literature class taught me to do (not that this isn't a great skill to have, but sometimes a blue curtain is just....a blue curtain, you know?)

The first "sign" that set me at ease was that the psychotherapist I talked to had the same name as the first real counselor I ever went to. She helped me make amazing leaps in my confidence and self esteem and was always there to give me a hug. For a while, I thought she had been harsh with some of the things she said or pushed me to do in therapy, but I've been reading a book (more on the book in another post) that is told from the therapist's point of view. I have found much of the same dialogue that she used in this book, and while it seemed tough to swallow at the time, seeing it from this new perspective has shown me how it was really helping me along this whole time.

The next thing I noticed was that there were two giant butterfly sculptures on the wall of the office. Butterflies are often associated with great change and transformation, as well as being a sign of freedom and joy. Well, I was definitely here to make some changes as well as find some freedom and joy within myself. Then I got to thinking some more. There were actually three butterflies in the room: the two on the wall, plus one that was on me. Last year on my birthday, I decided to get a tattoo. Originally, it was supposed to be three butterflies - one to remember each of my grandmas. However, I am kind of a big weenie when it comes to pain, so I ended up finishing only one butterfly. I have never been able to bring myself to get the last two done, since as I mentioned before, I am a big weenie. So in a way, it was like all of my grandmas were finally together, cheering me on.

I could go on and on about the miniscule details I noticed and connect them to a larger symbol about why I was there, but in the end, as all symbols, they served their purpose in illustrating a bigger picture. I felt comforted, at ease, and like great things were in store for me. I would have jumped in right away, but my boss has already put out the schedules for the next few weeks, so I will be chocolatier-ing until after the art show.

Ok, now on to "The Light" portion of this post. In my last post, I talked about some of the sticks I was already grabbing on to. I completely forgot to mention my happy lamp! At the beginning of the month, I ordered a SAD lamp to help lift my mood during winter. SAD stands for Seasonal Affective Disorder, which is a form of seasonal depression. Understandably, SAD usually happens in the winter when there is hardly any sunlight, especially up here! SAD lamps help alleviate some of the symptoms of the winter blues by mimicking the sun's light (minus UV rays), which can increase energy, help you wake up in dark hours of the morning, and boost your mood. SAD lamps come in a variety of shapes, sizes, and intensities. The one I decided to go with was a travel-sized lamp that can be placed on almost any surface. The only downside is that it doesn't have the option of running on batteries, only electricity. However, it still gets the job done. The lamp that I have comes with three intensity settings: low, medium, and high. It also has a timer with the options of 15, 30, and 45 minute intervals. Since I find it nearly impossible to wake up in the morning, I use it within an hour of waking up to help get me energized for the day. So far, I have noticed that it is easier to get up in the morning, but I feel like it is hard for me to get back to sleep if I do wake up in the night. On days when I don't have to set an alarm, I have been waking up consistently between 10-10:30. Considering my normal wake up time for many years was around 1, this is a huge improvement. Another thing I have noticed is that I am losing my usual night owl tendencies and am ready for bed way before any party has started. I guess that's the drawback to waking up so early, but at least me and my fiance are getting to be on the same sleep schedule, to an extent.

If you are interested in looking more into it, here is the link for the lamp I bought. It was one of the cheapest lamps I could find, but it suits my needs just as well as a more expensive one.

That's all for now, folks! Oh, and for your audio pleasure, here is a clip of Neil Gaiman reading Green Eggs and Ham. I find it to be very soothing.